April Green Poem by Cristina M. Moldoveanu

I sat at the table with rotted drawers scribbling the April green
drawing spirals with a French curve when sunshine was there
drawing straight angles with the set square because clouds were needed too
I learned flowers' shapes by heart
and mandolin songs seemed to capture butterflies
among their strings in the evening

happiness came to me each day at some time sharp
like a postman on a damper-less bike
jolting while I waited to catch my packet

grandma smothered vanilla caramel pudding
up on the hills plum blossoms weaved a loose delicate lace
knitted daisies and pansies grew on the brim of my hat
and only when I heard the train's whistle I knew that my game was over

I simply followed the last thread of sunlight until dark
when all my dreams were soft
and I did not care if the moon dropped its silver
on my strawberry patterned night gown